


Between Two Lungs

by Arowen12



Category: Howl no Ugoku Shiro | Howl's Moving Castle
Genre: Cottagecore, Fluff, Internalized Transphobia, Multi, Polyamory, Trans Character, Trans Howl, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arowen12/pseuds/Arowen12
Summary: Things don’t go quite back to normal; Justin stops by for tea maybe once a week and Sophie learns that he’s an abysmal rider, and he’s a fan of horticulture. And every single time, Howl finds an excuse to be in the room for at least most if not all of their little meetings. Whether it is obtrusively scanning and rifling through the bookshelves for over thirty minutes, tending to the fire and glaring over his shoulder, or most commonly looming over Sophie with his arms crossed over his chest, Howl is there.
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Prince Justin | Turnip Head/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71
Collections: Fics that cured my depression (mutual pining and happy endings)





	Between Two Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> First fic of 2021! Crazy to believe we're finally here. I actually meant to write this probably around November but got distracted with another fic, but well here we are. I'm a sucker for ot3's and there just wasn't enough of this ship. Anyway, hope you all enjoy, read on!

For the first week after… well everything, after the castle falls apart and they put it back together and after Sophie has tided the castle from the smallest stone at the bottom to the top once more because somehow dust accumulated during all of this, there is quiet.

It is in some ways a wonderful sort of quiet at least in comparison to the past few weeks, the war which had been brewing and bubbling and about near ready to explode seems to trickle away as quickly as it had come. She watches through the different doors, hanging in the frame of a flower shop, in a different city, in a different part, as soldiers march home, the green of their uniforms stark in the noonday sun.

Howl comes to stand behind her, his hands warm on her waist as he watches and there’s something lighter to him, to her too, like they’ve both shed old winter coats and are stumbling out in new skin into spring. Sophie turns from the door and draws Howl along with her, to the fire, to Calcifer who only complains mildly about the pan and the eggs and purrs at the shells Howl tosses him.

The quiet is strange, there is once again no guiding force in her life, no quest to solve or complete, and she is certain, utterly certain, that trouble will just as soon find them again. But for now, there is this.

Sophie cleans idly, she sweeps the dust that threatens to creep into the castle with a scowl, she bats at cobwebs with a curse, and she dares Howl to muck up the bathroom again and he won’t have hair to worry about (Markl decides then and there that Sophie is scarier than Howl).

She explores the castle, this new version of it, she finds a library and spends an idle hour here and there enclosed within until Howl will come trudging in dragging his feet and whine about one thing or another. He reminds her, in a fond sort of way, of a cat who acts like he’s perfectly fine on his own but is prone to sulking and demanding attention at inopportune moments.

They fit together well though, all things considered, Sophie has moments where she has to wonder how Howl ever decided to give his heart to her, when she’s well… her. But she tries not to listen to those thoughts and instead deals more often with the ones that go something along the line of Howl? The Howl who eats ladies’ hearts, that Howl?

But she digresses. They fit well beyond the bumps and spats and well the general snarking, which she wouldn’t trade for anything. They cook together, passing eggs and bread and Sophie teaches Markl her mother’s tomato soup recipe and Howl watches from the table with warm eyes. He’ll pull out an instrument in the evening and pass the time as Markl studies and Sophie stitches a tear or fiddles with a good book she can’t get into. Some nights, her favourite nights, Howl will sit in a chair by the fire and on pillows, they will listen to him tell a story; Howl has the best stories.

Sometimes, the old Witch of the Wastes will drop by and Sophie will knit with her as Howl watches on with a smile tinged with something almost wary, glancing every so often at Calcifer out of the corner of his eye. But she never does anything and will toddle off to the small cottage she now spends her time in with the dog following at her feet.

They’ll put Markl to bed and sometimes Sophie will tell him a story, a simple story because those can be the best ones, and sometimes he will ask questions. He’ll ask ones Sophie can answer, about what hat making is like (how to size it for a ladies’ head, how to follow the latest trends) or simpler questions about the flowers that look best together or why one might cook eggs with bacon. Sophie knows the answer sometimes and sometimes with a laugh she’ll call Howl in and he’ll puzzle over it and come up with an answer that is stupidly brilliant or brilliantly stupid.

After, they’ll sit by the fire, a cup of tea in her hands, Howl will be taking his tonics, things for youth, so he says, and rambling about the most recent thing that’s caught his gaze. He’ll stop immediately though when Sophie thinks to mention a letter from her sisters or her thoughts on the book she’s reading.

Then they’ll get ready for bed and Sophie will almost trip and flail over the clutter and threaten to clean Howl’s – their room, a hundred times over as she slips under the covers. Sometime later, Howl will come out smelling of fresh-pressed flowers and other pleasant scents from his creams and potions and he’ll clamber into bed beside her and the lights will dim and she’ll sink into the down of the bed and his arms.

So, for a week, maybe two, it is quiet and life meanders along at this comforting sort of pace and she takes a moment to breath, to just reflect on all that’s happened. And honestly? It’s still kind of a lot and she keeps wondering how she ended up here and how this is her life. But well, at some point you have to stop asking how and just start living with the why.

And then that silence evaporates as suddenly as a summer shower.

Nothing catastrophic mind you, it starts innocently enough with a knock on the door.

Sophie is the one to answer it, Howl is out picking up a few supplies that they can’t grow on the garden they’ve started on the roof of the castle and Markl is doing homework.

It’s the prince – Justin, in the same yellow suit, or rather a very similar one though this one has delicate embroidery about the wrists and the bow and vest are a pale blue. Sophie stares in surprise for a moment, she had been hoping, and in some measure put at the back of her mind, that the whole issue would just fade away as things always seemed to do in stories, all neatly tied up with and they lived happily ever after.

The moment slips into awkwardness and Justin, shifting on his feet with a hapless smile asks, “May I come in?”

Sophie has a moment to wonder what she should say before her manners kick in, this is, after all, a prince, and she can’t just turn the knob and pretend her problems aren’t there. It hasn’t worked before and it’s not bound to start working now.

She nods and welcomes him in, closing the door with a click before she offers to make tea. The prince stands there in the entryway, his eyes flickering over the fireplace, where Calcifer grumbles half-heartedly about the kettle, their little dining table, the reading nook overlooking the street, the shelves spilling paper and books and little knick-knacks.

It’s awkward, of course, it’s awkward, however much Sophie may have helped him when he was Turnip head and however much he helped them in return, they hardly know anything about each other. True love, how do you define true love? Is it love at first sight? She always thought that was some sort of fable, a cliché made up for girls like – like her.

She loves Howl, but he’s grown on her, and she means this in the most affectionate way possible, like mold; in a persistent sort of creeping way. They sit at the table, two cups of tea between them leaking steam in spirals and it’s awkward! Of course, it is, they’ve hardly spoken ten words to each other, and while words are not necessarily a requirement for a relationship or a connection, they don’t know anything about each other, so, it would probably help.

Justin laughs, softly to himself and says the same thing with an apologetic smile. He says he wants to get to know more about her and he seems nice enough, honest, kind, but Sophie has seen plenty of honest and kind men so she says with a gentle smile, “I can’t promise you anything.”

And she waits, and she watches his reaction.

The prince blinks and then nods a smile of his own, “I understand, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” A pause, “I’d simply like to get to know you, Sophie.”

She nods stirs a spoon through her tea and he stops and starts for a moment before he asks about her family. She talks about her sisters, her father and mother briefly, her step-mother in a few short words. Sophie wonders if she should count Markl and Howl as family now, she surely thinks of them that way but well is she allowed to phrase it that way?

It doesn’t matter, he was there most of the time. She asks about his own family, his face creases for a moment before he talks about his siblings, almost too many to name, the one who is the artist, the one who dances, the one who is a great strategist, so on and so forth. His mother he mentions in passing his eyes sad and his father he touches on with a familiar briefness.

At that moment, because fate likes her tricks and coincidence seems to be her method of employing them, the door swings open admitting Howl. He has a shopping bag on one arm and he looks utterly domestic in the best way cloaked only in trousers, a loose shirt, and a thin coat.

His eyes survey the room and land on the prince, Sophie watches as he visibly puffs up, like a rooster, though his smile is nothing but pleasant. In fact, it is extremely pleasant as he greets the prince and unsubtly enquires as to why he is here, thank you very much.

Sophie stands between the two and this somehow feels more dangerous than the events of the past few weeks as the two men stare at each other. Finally, Justin smiles, pinched right at the corners, and with a sharp incline of his head asks if he might stop by for tea again?

She could say no, put a stop to all of this right now and maybe save herself a whole ton of trouble. But she thinks of Justin talking about his family and looking lonely, and she thinks that maybe she can’t be his true love, but she can be his friend.

So, she nods. Howl huffs and if possible puffs even more glaring at Justin as he tips his hat and steps out the door and onto the street.

The room is quiet for a moment, even Calcifer says nothing. Slowly, Howl extends his arm, the shopping bag in his hand and he’s pouting at her like he’s tripped and fell down the stairs and needs her to kiss it better. She takes the bag and rests her hand on his cheek for a moment, lets him see her, then Sophie presses a kiss to her cheek and goes to put the groceries away.

Things don’t go quite back to normal; Justin stops by for tea maybe once a week and Sophie learns that he’s an abysmal rider, that he has a fear of spiders (which Howl hears about from Calcifer and promptly encourages them to fill every nook and cranny), he writes poems that he never shows anyone, and he’s a fan of horticulture.

And every single time, Howl finds an excuse to be in the room for at least most if not all of their little meetings. Whether it is obtrusively scanning and rifling through the bookshelves for over thirty minutes, tending to the fire and glaring over his shoulder, or most commonly looming over Sophie with his arms crossed over his chest, Howl is there.

Sometimes, Sophie goes out murmuring about a new seed variant for the poppies and the begonias and she does look at those along with the hydrangeas and the posies, just with Justin at her side commenting on the fascinating properties of lemons.

And it would be fine honestly if Howl didn’t start snidely insinuating that maybe Sophie would like to be spending her time with Prince Justin, or the way he glares and puffs up to hide the way he bites his lips and spends an extra twenty minutes at night staring at his face in the mirror and it’s not quite vanity.

Sophie would say she’s never been one to sit and watch everything go to shit, but that wouldn’t be quite true. She cares about Howl, she loves him (she only spends about two hours thinking about that and she’s never really been in love before, she’s read about it, but is this how it’s supposed to feel? Not like she’s complete, or she’s finally breathing air after drowning, just that she’s happy and her thoughts turn to him when she sees a shade he would like, or a tune he would hum).

They sit in the evening; it’s a dark and stormy night sort of evening and lightning occasionally casts the rain outside into sharp grey relief as Sophie nurses a cup of tea and watches Howl sit, his feet perched in front of the fire.

She says, “I love you; you know that?”

Howl startles makes a sound that’s an almost bird-like squawk, and nearly falls off of his chair before he turns to her with his wide blue eyes and says, “Of course I know that Sophie!”

“And you know that…” she pauses for a moment and takes a sip of her tea to hide the way she can’t quite phrase this right, she continues, “You know that even if I fancied someone else, I would still love you, you would still be my first choice?”

He pauses his expression twitching for a moment through concern and jealousy and envy before he glances away and says, “I – I just, I’m not like him, I’m – I can’t be what you need me to be… properly.”

“I don’t need a title or money Howl, this,” she gestures around them, “Is all I could ever want. I’m happy here, truly, though I would be happier without the spider infestation you’ve encouraged.”

He crooks half a smile before he shakes his head one hand hovering over his chest, “No I’m not – not like him, I can’t be what you need me to be.”

Sophie slips from the chair and sinks to her knees in front of Howl, her hands spread on the flannel of his pajamas as she says, “I love you no less, if not in fact more because of who you are. I don’t care about what I ‘need’ according to anyone else. I know what I want and what I need Howl. I love you, all of you, not despite but because you’re you.”

He slumps forward his hands cradling her jaw, warm with only the slightest hint of callouses, and his eyes are shining like the crystals in his room as he says, “Thank you, Sophie.”

She reaches up, lays her hand over his, “I’m not going to leave you. Try being nice to Justin, you might even like him if you get to know him.”

Howl rolls his eyes his expression says he doubts it. Sophie leaves it be and presses another kiss to his cheek before she pulls him off his chair and with a fond goodnight to Calcifer drags him up to bed.

Things are… better. Not good, Howl is still prone to glaring is Justin takes Sophie’s hand and helps her up the steps, but he catches himself. He sits at the table with them sometimes for tea and he sulks into the tea but if Justin mentions the kingdom’s magic Howl has opinions, he also has opinions on cartography, library organization, science, and of course their respective public personas.

Sophie leaves them to it when they get into one of their debates, stirring a spoon through her tea and glancing out the window, some days the cobbled street where people rush past laughing and chatting with each other, other days the field full of flowers with puffy white clouds. Eventually, they’ll remember Sophie and Justin will try to ask her opinion which she sometimes gives if she knows what they’re talking about, or Howl will change the subject asking after something they can all discuss.

And maybe it would stay like that for a while, a tentative peace where Howl and Justin might eventually settle into a sort of friendly rivalry. But Sophie likes fixing things and she talks to Lettie, who’s always liked to things up nicely.

So, maybe it’s an accident but she completely forgets she’s meant to be having tea with Justin, and is instead at the bakery, talking to her sister about flower arrangements and their old school friends who are off married and apprenticed. She returns a few hours past the appointment, only remembering as she’s on the doorstep, the key in her hand.

She has a moment of panic, can see it almost crystal clear, the living room a mess, the table overturned, the chairs broken, and the two men grappling with each other, or perhaps there’s a line of shock dividing the room and keeping a tentative sort of peace.

Sophie pushes the door open tentatively, peering around into the living room. She exhales in relief when she sees Howl and Justin sitting at the table talking in a civilized manner. She scans the room but sees no sign of damage and Calcifer looks content in the fireplace, so, all seems to be well.

She joins them at the table apologizing for her lateness and Howl shakes his head with a smile while Justin says they were just talking about the sports they used to play as children. Sophie never one for running without a good reason pours herself a cup of tea and reaches out to take a scone.

They smile at each other, Justin and Howl, and it’s friendly, and maybe it’s just a bit more as they argue with each other. She bites into her second scone and contemplates this development with a sip of tea before she ultimately decides to see how it plays out; with a little help.

So, she makes excuses to be out of the castle every once and a while, a visit to the Witch of the Waste to help with the spring cleaning, a visit to Madame Sullivan over tea where they politely discuss Howl and the prince, and of course visits to her sisters.

When she comes back, she’ll sometimes catch them over tea, but she’s also caught them in the garden on the rooftop, and Markl reported seeing them out in the fields a few times though he couldn’t say what they were possibly doing. She laughs and ruffles his hair and offers to make him a recipe her sister showed her, and he can help. He perks right up and joins in rambling on about his homework and how Howl is a very unfair master frankly.

That doesn’t mean they exclude her, she still has tea dates with just Justin on occasion, just as Howl and her take long walks together or sit in the evenings with her cup of tea. They sit together, all three of them, discussing any subject, and sometimes Justin comes just in time for breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, and inevitably he’ll disappear again with a tip of his hat. Or she’ll catch them in the garden and they’ll invite her to join in and she’ll dig her fingers into the soft soil and pull weeds out of the ginger patch with a shake of her head.

It’s good for a while, not quiet in any way, there’s a run-in with a pair of enchanted scissors which threaten to give Sophie an even shorter hair cut and succeed in giving Howl one before they are disenchanted. There’s a farmers market right around a summer festival and the streets are perfumed with the scent of flowers and she walks between Howl and Justin, one on each arm. They don’t talk about, it grows almost unnoticed, or maybe unremarked upon, like a patch of clover in the forest.

They’re getting ready for bed, Sophie rinsing out her teacup and running her finger along the edge where there’s a tiny little chip when Howl, still somewhat melted in front of the fire calls out, “Sophie?”

She turns and sets her cup down, stands beside him, ruffling his hair and rubbing his shoulders before he stands and turns to her, his eyes are troubled, his lips crooked down into a frown as he says, “You remember what we talked about,” a pause, Sophie raises a brow and he continues, “About fancying in other people?”

For a moment her heart sinks and she suddenly feels old again with a frail heart attempting to but failing at thumping away in her chest. He takes her hands and she nods, he continues, “I – I you know I love you right?”

“Of course, Howl.”

“And that like you said, I wouldn’t love you any less even if my heart, so young as it is, may have room for someone else?” Howl asks and he looks painfully earnest, clenching her hands like she’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold tight.

She nods, “This is about Justin isn’t it?”

He nods.

“I was talking about Justin then,” Sophie says one hand reaching up to cup his jar, “If we both feel this way about him…” she trails off unsure how to tie these threads properly.

Howl picks up where she left off, “Then why not?”

“It wouldn’t diminish my love for you any less Howl.”

“I know,” He says and she can see that he does know it.

Sophie leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek, “We’ll have to see if he’s agreeable, he is a prince after all,” Howl laughs with a shake of his head and a crinkle of his eyes and pulls her into his arms.

They don’t mention it the next time they see Justin, in the aftermath of a rainstorm where Howl is searching for one specific plant that only grows after a storm, and they’re sopping wet and laughing about it, but they do hint. Sophie let’s her hand linger on his arm a few seconds past what would definitely be considered improper, and Howl leans his shoulder against Justin’s his eyes burning as bright as Calcifer.

Justin glances between the two of them, his eyes wide beneath the wet fringe of his hair, which he shoves out of the way and doesn’t mention it; she feels his eyes watching her the whole time.

The next time he comes over for dinner and Markl is off with the Witch of the Waste seeing if he can get any information from her so it’s just the three of them and Sophie welcomes him with a kiss on the cheek and it’s strange and it’s exhilarating. Justin blushes and comes inside compliments Howl on the dinner and Sophie on the flower arraignment in the centre of the table and he knows the meaning of flowers and he’s blushing again when he says it; she decides she likes his blush.

And after dinner, Sophie and Howl trade a glance and it already feels awkward but she pushes past it and begins, explains how they feel for him and that he doesn’t have to reciprocate and that they’re fine being friends if that’s what he would like.

He stares across the table at the two of them for a long moment before he smiles, tiny and a hundred times better than the prince charming smile and he says yes. Howl laughs and pulls him up from his chair and into a kiss, and she’s laughing and Calcifer is complaining but he looks sappy when she glances over her shoulder at him before she too is pulled into a kiss.

And things don’t go quite back to normal, the quiet was a temporary sort of thing, after all, they deal with enchanted items, flower arrangements, and witches and wizards who run amok causing chaos. Between one spring festival and the fall Justin is living with them, fencing with Howl on the roof and laughing and showing Markl how to properly harvest herbs and the three of them dance in the evenings and Howl plays and Justin sings and they tell the most wonderful stories. It’s not a perfectly tied up story and maybe it’s not love at first sight or a cliched true love, but it’s them and that’s all it needs to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this little one-shot, it was super easy and fun to write. Comments are always super appreciated and best of luck in 2021 to y'all!


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